Smile at Despair in the Name of Hope
by Soleil Artemis Lumiere
Summary: [ENDGAME SPOILER WARNING] Set after the ending of Super Dangan Ronpa 2: Goodbye Despair. "There should be a chance, a probability no matter how low, that the overwrite command was jeopardized and his brain would come back to life somehow. Plus, he's the super high school level good luck. That one reason should be enough, right?"


"Wake up."

He wouldn't.

"Wake up."

No matter what I said, he wouldn't wake up.

It was impossible. I should know better. She was part of the research team. The program was designed to overwrite every memory with the one created within the hyper reality simulation. If part of that memory is 'death', that's the end of it.

But the program went through a premature termination. There should be a chance, a probability no matter how low, that the overwrite command was jeopardized and his brain would come back to life somehow.

Plus, he's the super high school level good luck. That one reason should be enough, right?

I laid my head down on his bead. I felt worn out even though all I did was sit and stare at him, hoping.

He loved hope so much. He said he'd become a stepping stone to any kind of hope. Why wouldn't he answer to mine?

I caught a glimpse of the hand attached to his arm. That _monster's _hand. He said he did it to make _her _power his own, to make mankind's hope shine brighter than it could ever be. I didn't know what dreadful things he did with that hand. Super High School Level Despair was known for orchestrating murder, robbery, war, practically all kind of crimes one could have thought of.

The sick, skinny boy lying in front of me is a terrorist. But I want him to wake up. We went through so much trouble to _heal_ him.

"You're waiting on Komaeda again," someone came in. It was Naegi-san.

"His friends never came to see him. If he wakes up and found no one here, he's be bound to fall into despair all over again."

"her-san… You know—"

"I know."

"The other kids, they… Even though they are recovering from their brainwashed state, it's still hard for them to accept Komaeda. After all, he—"

"I understand," I didn't want to hear it all over again. I understand full well what those kids—the surviving ones—are thinking, "I was their psychiatrist, remember?"

"Right, sorry."

"Do you need me for something? If you don't, please leave me alone for a while."

"I just wanted to inform you… Byakuya, Kyouko, and I are leaving at sunrise tomorrow," he said.

"That's an odd time for a voyage."

"Yeah… HQ insisted we return as soon as possible. We're in trouble enough as we are. The later we arrive at the HQ, the worse things are gonna get for us," Naegi-san explained apologetically.

"You don't mind if I don't see you off, right?"

"No… I guess…"

"Be sure to check with my patients before you leave."

"Okay. Good bye… her."

"Good bye."

I heard the door close. I guess it's back to being the sole inhabitant of the Jabberwock Island. Ah, right, there were the kids as well; fifteen former Super High School Level Despair, ten of which are practically brain dead. I avoid interaction with them outside their sessions to make sure their therapy remained effective. They take all the chores off of my hands, giving me more time to slack off. Espionage drones from the Future Foundation intently watched our backs, ready to target anyone who showed the sign of reverting to their old self.

I had long accepted it. This Island is my home.

I woke up and found myself still sitting by that boy's bedside. I must have fallen asleep. It was already dark outside. Thank God there weren't any session scheduled today.

…Or yesterday. It's almost sunrise.

I decided to stay for a bit longer. Naegi and the others must be getting ready for their voyage back to the HQ.

As I watched the boy's involuntary breathing rose and fell, my mind trailed. I recalled dreaming of the past. Nothing vivid, just… pieces of memories.

I was in the 76th class in Hope's Peak Academy, freshly graduated when the Tragedy occurred. They dubbed me the super high school level psychoanalyst. Actually I was just good at reading people. It's not a comfortable ability. Being able to feel what others feel is harder on the soul than mind reading. Somehow I learned to look at those feelings as an outsider instead of putting myself in their shoes. That was how I survived the Most Despair Inducing Incident in Mankind's History. Then the Future Foundation Recruited me into the development team of the New World Project, a hyper reality simulator that was supposed to replace people's memory of the Incident so they could be reborn as new individuals brimming with hope.

Shit happened and the New World Project was abandoned when it was near completion. I volunteered to stay behind and keep watch on the research facility here in Jabberwock Island. Then those three—Naegi-san and the others, new recruits and survivor of the killing game _she _orchestrated—brought them here.

They brought the Remnants of Despair who were about to be executed by the Foundation, begging me to put them into the New World Project.

It wasn't them who made me consent to their crazy plan. It was this boy. Super High School Level Good Luck. Super High School Level Manipulator, more like. Add Super High School Level Inferiority Complex as well.

Komaeda Nagito.

After so many years I managed to stand on the outside and kept my feelings intact, he…

I just… I just had to… I had to save him no matter what.

I should be focusing all my effort on Hinata and the other survivors. I had a better chance to heal their souls completely. I shouldn't be breaking down like this. I held the leash to their sanity. But still…

…Whenever I looked at this skinny boy, whenever I remembered what he said to me when he first came to this island, whenever I thought of how he fared in the simulator…

I survived the Most Despair Inducing Incident in Mankind's History. I thought I was strong enough. But now…

This must be despair.

"Are you… crying?"

Huh?

I raised my head from his bed. Had I begun hallucinating? No, it's impossible…

"Please, don't cry."

He woke up.

He always said the bigger the despair, it would lead to an even bigger hope. He must have believed it with every single cell of his body, wished it with the core of his soul that was detached from rough consciousness conceived by an exchange of synaptic signals.

With his luck, everything was possible. He just had to wait for the moment when my despair was so deep that I almost gave up all hope.

Then he gave me hope.


End file.
